


Forget the Dragon, Leave the Gun on the Table

by thenleavetheband



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Homophobic Language, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of drinking, Louis is very broken, M/M, but louis is so sort of the most broken, everyone is very broken, mentions of self harm, sad boys being sad, sexy times kind of as well, the pressure of religion on sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenleavetheband/pseuds/thenleavetheband
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis figures out that the best way to banish Harry Styles from his boyfriend’s mind is to fuck him. Sometimes it helps Louis forget him too.</p>
<p>In which Louis is sad and Nick is angry and Harry thinks they're both the most beautiful people he's ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget the Dragon, Leave the Gun on the Table

**Author's Note:**

> So this is about how they all love each other and how they're all so broken that that love doesn't really shine the way it's supposed to. I haven't been doing too good and this has just been sitting on my laptop so I apologise profusely for the millions of mistakes it probably has, and the very little sense it probably makes.   
> Warnings: Mentions of self harm, drugs, alcohol, homophobic language, internalised homophobia, everyone's a little ooc because they're all so terribly sad.

It’s fucking hot outside. Which makes no sense, since it’s the middle of the fucking night, but Louis just smiles and tilts his head up to the stars as the smell of smoke and alcohol and the faint whiff of puke, surrounds him. The circle gradually grows as people, random fuckers, sit down next to other people, all eyes fixed firmly on the bottle in the middle.

Nick idly draws various patterns on Louis’ thigh, his fingers creeping slowly upwards, and Louis’ shuts his eyes against the scene, to just feel for a moment. Nick’s breath is hot against Louis’ neck as he kisses across Louis’ jaw, and Louis tilts his head to the side just basking in it for a moment.

There’s not a single doubt in his mind that when he opens his eyes, Styles will be staring right back at him.

Which, unsurprisingly, he is. The perv. Louis doesn’t like it. He thought maybe it was Nick he was watching at the beginning, the tendons in Styles’ neck shifting as he swallows whenever Louis and Nick get particularly outward in their displays of affection.

Now Louis think maybe Styles was watching him. Or at least, him and Nick together.

Louis has no fucking clue why he’s compelled to watch Styles watch them. It’s just his big green eyes, so full of the romanticised bullshit that he spouts, won’t leave Louis’ and it fucks with his head. So, all Louis does, all Louis ever does, is just stare right back.

Then the bottle spins and various combinations of people smash together, some disgustingly sloppy, whilst others kiss in a way that’s too explicitly tender for this game. It’s those people Louis vows to keep his eye on. It’s always good to know where people’s weaknesses lay he finds.

He ignores Styles.

Nick’s bantering behind him with Finchy and the night isn’t getting any fucking cooler, but whatever. Louis’ halfway to drunk and he’s pretty certain Niall will appear from nowhere in a minute with some pizza and a bag of weed, so Louis sees no reason to move. He just _feels_.

He watches Liam nervously glance at Zayn as the bottle spins on his count and can’t help but roll his eyes. Louis doesn’t need to keep his gaze focused to see Liam’s eyes droop when the bottle spins right past Zayn, landing instead on some dirty looking red head who starts crawling towards Liam the moment the bottle stops. Louis pushes down the protective rush that comes whenever something happens to Liam he doesn’t quite feel comfortable with. The kid’s too naïve to look out for himself; doesn’t mean Louis has any idea why he started to watch his back.

It’s just that Liam’s _good_ , a really nice kind of good and this world full of people- these people in particular- aren’t good enough for him.

Whenever Louis catches Liam staring at him with even the slightest bit of adoration he punches him hard on the arm.

Kid’s gotta learn.

Louis’ gaze snags on Zayn as an older looking guy, with a nasty looking goatee, starts groping him in the middle of the game. It’s not really surprising. There’s a whole load of shit going on in Zayn’s family that makes Louis think his best friend would fuck a fucking shark just to forget things for a few minutes.

Nick turns Louis’ head, bites at his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. Louis rolls his eyes and leans into the following kiss that Nick drops onto his mouth. Nick’s practically begging for his attention, a plea for Louis to actually respond to his efforts. Louis doesn’t.

He never does, not on Nick’s watch, not anymore.

He's become a lot more picky about when they’ll have sex now. The weird need for control over his and Nick’s fucking came out of nowhere, but it’s not something Louis feels he can focus on or examine too closely. He's pretty certain he knows the reason. It's sat opposite him with gangly legs and stupid fucking curly hair. It's not that Louis doesn't still think Nick's hot as shit, it's just he worries that there might be a moment, a tiny fleeting moment, where Nick's eyes flash green and it's a deep, honey dripped tone of voice he hears calling his name with Nick's dick in his arse. And Louis' not really down for that.

In all honesty, he’s not even sure why Nick’s still with him. Not because Louis wants Nick to leave; he’s so irrationally co dependent on his boyfriend it’s not even funny, but because he’s pretty certain that Nick’s desperately trying to fix a problem Louis doesn’t even fully understand and it’s got to be getting tiring. As an apology and a desire, Louis lets Nick pull him between his legs, relaxing back as Nick’s hand rests against his stomach.

Louis looks over at the circle just in time to watch as the guy drags Zayn away, pulling out some perfect looking white powder from his pocket.

‘Fuck,’ Louis breathes and makes to move away but Nick’s arms clamp even tighter around his stomach. ‘Fuck off Nick,’

‘You fuck off,’ Nick retorts, nipping Louis’ earlobe. ‘You stop him from leaving he won’t forgive you. He’ll think you’re patronising him.’

‘So I let him take cocaine from a skanky fucking creep.’

‘Pretty much.’

‘You suck.’

‘Whatever.’ Nick kisses behind his ear.

Louis watches Styles shift on his place on the floor, making as if to stand up before Liam pulls him back down. Louis doesn’t like that Styles and Zayn are friends. Or Styles and any of his friends really. Quite frankly, he has no fucking clue how that even came about.

But Zayn’s a big boy now, and Nick isn’t wrong when he says that Zayn’s head is so fucked, that resentment is easy for him. Easy and comfortable and he’s willing to turn it on anyone he can.

Louis narrows his eyes when Zayn walks past and mouths the word ‘slut’ as viciously as he can, hoping that even though it won’t scare him, his cold stare will fucking alert Zayn to the huge mistake he’s about to make. Zayn doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even blink. Louis feels as though he lost this round.

Louis looks back at the game when Nick begins to laugh, to see the bottle facing towards him, and he smirks as he glances around to see who span it. Styles sits stunned and wide eyed on the floor and when Liam inclines his head in a slight nod, Louis throws his head back and laughs even harder. Nick will bitch at him later for it, but it’s a game and Louis can blame it on the alcohol and oh God, he wants to play this game with Styles so badly.

Maybe this will finally make him crack. Maybe he’ll finally stop fucking staring and punch Louis in the face. Some kind of reaction over than watchful, perverted curiosity would be fucking brilliant.

Everyone knows that Harry’s got some sort of religious preoccupation. Which is kind of weird for someone who goes to a very dodgy English high school but whatever. Louis wonders when he looks at him sometimes if he’s just staring homophobia straight in the face. If when he kisses Nick and Styles can't look away it's because he's imagining them both in hell. It helps Louis to think that that's why he watches; he doesn't like considering the alternative.

Styles has come a long way from what Louis remembers. The first couple of parties that Styles let Niall drag him too, he sat there smiling at everyone and refusing to touch even a drop of alcohol. Now, he's got dark circles under his eyes and Louis' already seen him smoke a packet of cigarettes. It's weird. If you looked at him, the last thing you'd think was innocent. But bearing around him, even sitting near him, it's one of the first things you apply to Styles' pretty face.

Louis crawls away from Nick and into the middle of the circle perching himself down to sit on his knees. Someone wolf-whistles and hollers Louis’ name, and Louis turns his head over his shoulder grinning as Nick pushes the random guy away and then flickers his eyes down to where Louis knows that black lacy thong Nick got him for his birthday is peeking out. His arse must look great from this angle.

When Louis turns back around, Styles kisses him. And fuck, that was not how it was meant to go.

He catches Louis by surprise, forcing him to take a minute to recover but long enough for Styles to wind his huge hands in Louis’ hair and apply just enough pressure at the back of Louis’ neck to make his mouth fall that little bit more open and Jesus fuck, when did Styles learn to kiss like this? He’s such a good little Catholic boy, always preaching about love and romance and giving random girls flowers in the school corridors.

In no time at all, Styles bites Louis’ lower lip, just like Nick a few minutes before and fuck if that similarity doesn’t make Louis possibly moan a little. It’s when Styles gently slides his tongue into Louis’ mouth that Louis’ eyes fly open in surprise, to find Style’s own green ones staring back at him.

With both of their eyes open, Styles gently kisses Louis’ bottom lip, as if he wants to apologise. Kind of like he's asking for forgiveness.

The kiss ends as suddenly as it started, and Louis feels himself begin to pull away when Styles leans his head briefly against Louis’ for a second.

‘Thank you Lou,’ he murmurs and Louis can smell the booze he’s been drinking, fruity and typically Styles, fan against his cheeks all hot and sticky. He’s not Louis’ friend, not really, he just hangs round with Louis’ friends and makes them all laugh and bakes them fucking cookies or whatever. But he says Louis’ name like he’s a friend.

Styles moves away from him then, picking his drink up from the floor and walking away, his head tilted back as he downs the rest of the bottle and then chucks it empty into a bush.

‘Fuck.’ Louis whispers.

-

Louis doesn’t know what compelled him to go there. Actually, he does know. He needed inspiration for his gothic horror drama piece, and he thought maybe a trip to the church would light up that bit of his brain that sometime fizzes and boils until he types out whatever the hell it is he needed to get out of his head. Louis doesn’t expect him to be there. It’s late on a Sunday, everyone’s gone home.

Louis gets that _he_ has faith. It kind of scares him a little how much he gets it. Styles is someone who deserves faith, because faith is strength and purity and kindness and all that bullshit, and Styles deserves it.

Styles is _nice_ and that can’t be fucking denied, no matter how much he irritates Louis. And funnily it’s the one topic Louis has never pushed with him. Never even started, because-

Well, he doesn’t know why. Faith is something Louis doesn’t have, will never have. But with Styles, well, Louis thinks he’ll believe until he dies.

‘You listen to me you son of a bitch.’

He’s almost crying.

Louis presses his back to the stone wall, the open church door just to the right of him. Styles is stood halfway down the rows of pews, his head flung back, like he’s looking at the ceiling. Looking directly at God. Louis isn’t really sure what to do when Styles starts yelling at an empty church.

‘She prayed for me. The woman I barely know, who I babysit for-for fucks sake. She sat me down, gave thanks to you, and then prayed for me. She prayed for my heart, she gave thanks for _me_. And the only thing I could think, the only thought that was running through my mind as this woman, this beautiful kind woman asked you to help me, was would she do it if she knew? Cos I personally, know she wouldn’t. If she knew how I felt about boys. How I feel about _them_. Would she have prayed for me then? Short answer, no. You fucker. What, was my mum and dad a warning signal? Stop your faggy urges or bad shit will happen. I get it now. I don’t want to be gay. It is disgusting and wrong and I am sorry for it. But you need to help me. I am begging you. All I have ever done, is loved you and praised you and understood you. You created me, you gave me faith. I am wrong, and I know I am and I apologise. But I can’t change it on my own. Please. Take it away.’

Louis has a sudden, violent urge to vomit. He exhales shakily and slides down the church wall, the stones pricking and scratching at his back.

‘And maybe I will go to Hell for this.’ Styles continues, his voice trembling and thick. Louis’ doesn’t need to see him to know he’s properly crying. ‘Maybe being gay is a sin too great for you to save me. But leave them out of it. Leave my mum and my sister, and Niall and Zayn and Liam and, and, Louis. Even Nick. Please, don’t hurt them because of my sin. I will defeat this. Because if you so much as even hint at hurting them, anyone of them, but especially… especially Louis, I swear to God, if you cause him anymore pain, like with his dad…’ Styles stops for a minute and laughs, or maybe cries. Louis doesn’t really know him well enough to differentiate.

Louis’ mouth drops open. There are lots of things about Styles that remain infuriatingly enigmatic and Louis’ unable to twist the information out with cutting retorts and sharp looks. Because he simply cradles Louis’ continued nastiness in his gentle hands and lovingly places it away, storing it within himself until he can one day give it back to Louis with the same fire and ice he had offered Styles in the first place.

Right from the first time Styles had moved to their school, had instantly hit it off with Zayn and come to sit at their table at lunch, he’d been unflustered by Louis’ cruelty. Louis could get him to blush with his innuendos and sleazy comments, but whenever he started up with them, Styles would whip out his own biting comments and effectively cut Louis off. Which pissed Louis off to no fucking end.

Those words sound beautifully self-destructive though, spilling from his lips and Louis’ filled with a craving so strong he almost allows himself to sate it. Louis wants to see him. Fuck, he wants to know whether Style’ hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it, or if it’s still perfectly styled around that green headscarf he loves. Louis wants to know whether when Styles cries his cheeks go red or his nose runs, he want to see the anger Styles directs to this almighty God and have that same passion turned towards him. Louis wants Styles to strike him with the anger he feels now.

Those thoughts make him gag. Nick’s waiting for him at home. Probably chatting with his mum about what they’re gonna do for dinner and whether Nick’s planning on proposing any time soon.

Whilst Louis thinks about the boy in the church.

Thinks about ruining him in front of the eyes of God, and then when he’s done, with Styles naked and flushed beneath him, looking straight up at the stained glass ceiling and saying ‘Look you old man. This is fucking beauty.’

Styles begins to sob again but this time, this time it’s real. Not little sniffles or howling cries, Harry Styles is sobbing because of the hatred he feels for a part of himself he cannot change.

Louis’ never understood the term ‘gather into your arms’, but now, sitting outside, the stones of the church wall still pressing into his back as he scribbles down the inspiration he found into his tattered notebook, Louis realises there’s never been anything he’s wanted to do more.

Louis' grown used to homophobia. He and Nick are pretty infamous in their school and whatever dickheads took the piss when they first started going out soon shut the fuck up when they realised that Nick and Louis genuinely did not give one shit what they thought. Louis tries to imagine thinking of what it be like to have the person you adore the most, the person you turn to the most for comfort and love and guidance, tell you that what you are as a person is fundamentally wrong. It hurts his head a little and makes his fingers itch to touch Harry, to reassure him. 

When he gets to Nick’s house, he pushes his boyfriend up against the wall and is both relieved and terrified to find that his dick still gets hard just as quickly when they kiss, that his heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest when Nick touches him in this way, that he still feels himself whine when Nick finds that one spot on his collarbone that drives Louis crazy. He still is stupidly in love with his boyfriend.

That night, when Nick’s asleep, he Googles whether you can fancy two people at one time and what the term ‘lust’ really means.

-

The house party is one of Louis’ favourite types. Wild and stingy and completely disgusting. Which is why it’s more than a little surprising when Styles appears at the door, leaning one elbow on the door frame and wearing jeans that are fucking painted onto his skin, his top almost sinfully unbuttoned.

He enters with his back straight and no wobble in his steps and all Louis can do is sit up from Nick’s lap and watch as he walks into the middle of the dance floor. It’s then that Louis notices the cigarette dangling from his fingers.

A fierce rush of protective anger bursts through him and he slips off of Nick’s lap to make his way towards him. He almost takes that first step when he remembers Nick and turns back to his boyfriend. There’s a look on Nick’s face that Louis really really does not like at all; it’s like weary acceptance. Louis leans on the arms of the chair and kisses Nick fiercely, dropping his hand down to Nick’s crotch and palming at his dick whilst he licks and bites at Nick’s mouth.

‘Later, I need you to fuck me really hard and then cuddle the shit out of me after yeah?’ Louis demands, still petting at the outline of Nick’s dick whilst he sucks a mark onto the soft skin on Nick’s neck.

‘So romantic Lou,’ Nick groans and Louis pulls away, patting Nick’s cheek in a condescending manner. He quickly turns back to Styles and glares at the fag between those pretty pink lips.

He’s ignored Louis since the last party, the atmosphere between the group made more than a little awkward due to the kiss that meant a lot fucking more than it should have. That was what fucked it all up, Louis knows. Styles’ kissed him and Louis’ head exploded.  

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Louis snarls when he reaches him.

He pulls the cigarette from Styles’ fingers and drops it on the carpet, allowing various heeled feet to stamp it into the carpet. He turns to face Louis and for the first time since Louis’ met him, Louis flinches.

His eyes, Styles’ stupidly, beautiful expressive eyes, are dead.

He says nothing, just smiles blandly at Louis and turns away. Louis hears Nick calling for him, knows that he probably needs to go, he has to get up relatively early tomorrow and he needs to stop this thing with Styles before it all goes to complete shit and Louis did promise Nick sex. Which is a rare enough thing recently.

And then Harry fucking Styles happened.

He had a way of distracting Louis, the little fucker. It’s not even that Louis wants to swap Nick for Harry, break up with Nick to feel Harry’s lips on his. He can’t ever let go of Nick; he’s in way too deep for that. What he wants is to feel Harry’s lips on his whilst Nick fucks him.

But nobody’s that fucking lucky. And Louis sure as fucking hell does not deserve that.

‘Come with me.’ Louis doesn’t ask and Styles doesn’t respond, simply allows Louis to push him into one of the upstairs bathrooms, angrily kicking out the horny couple dry humping in the bath tub.

‘Aw Louis, you ruined their fun,’ he says blandly as he sits on the toilet seat, glancing around the room.

‘Leave it out Styles.’

He looks up at you, and arches an eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘This whole nothing-can-touch-me-bullshit. What are you playing at?’

‘I don’t really know how you can lecture me Louis.’ He replies bluntly, standing up and wobbling slightly. He tries to step past Louis, only for Louis to push him back, smirking when Styles gropes against the wall for balance.

Styles rolls his eyes at him and slides down the wall a little, a hand pushing away his curls from his face. ‘Go back to fucking Nick, Lou.’

‘Jealous Styles? Or did you want to watch?’

The words are out before Louis can stop them, an immediate reaction to Styles, something to catch him out, make him lose his composure. And it almost works, for a brief second, Styles’ eyes flicker with emotion and stupid hope rises in Louis’ chest only to be squashed again when he looks back down and murmurs something to his legs.

‘Didn’t quite catch that.’ Louis can’t help but comment.

‘I said maybe.’

Louis stares at him and he stares right back, unabashedly waiting for Louis’ reaction. Louis feel sick and his heart begins to simply ache. Did he mean he was jealous? Or that he wanted to watch? Jealous of who? Does he want to join in as well?

Louis loves Nick because when he touches him, he feels cleaner. Louis wants to touch Styles but knows that he would leave dirt and poison in his wake.

Louis sneers at him, turning back towards the mirror. He can’t look at him, he doesn’t even want to. He can’t see him, he can’t think about this, he can’t…

Styles’ hand touches Louis’ shoulder. His fingers and palm are sweaty, slightly too warm to feel nice but his hand is huge, dwarfing Louis’ shoulder and the desperate longing Louis has felt recently to feel those hands across his lower back is almost suffocating. He hears Styles huff out a laugh before he turns away.

‘You shouldn’t act surprised Louis, you’ve known for just as long as I have. You just don’t let yourself think about it,’

Styles is pressed against the door in less than a second, his face unbearably close to Louis’. His eyes widen as Louis slides a denim clad thigh in between his legs, forcing them apart.

‘Don’t say things like that Styles.’

He smirks and looks down at Louis’ lips, unconsciously darting his tongue out to wet his own.

‘Why does it scare you-’

His words are cut off as Louis bites at the skin of his neck, sucking and pulling with his teeth as Styles’ head falls back on the door. Louis knows he’s clenching around Styles’ skin way too hard to be comfortable but Styles makes no sound, simply letting Louis mark him with submission.

Louis begins to kiss and suck and lick, unable to stop, pressing closer and closer, arching his thigh up against Styles’ dick and he’d always know that it would end up here eventually. God, he couldn’t stop it. His dry sob is muffled by Styles’ skin when Louis thinks of Nick. Of how much he does _love_ Nick. How much he wants him always, all the time.

Styles managed to wind his way into Louis’ world with a type of ease that no-one ever possessed, not even Nick. He came with his smiles and his curls and completely fucked up Louis’ world and Louis _hates_ him for that. Fucking hates him. The desire to touch him and claim him was something that had been born out of a hatred that had been born out of lust.

Styles’ hands tangle in Louis’ hair as he lavishes his neck with his tongue. He breathes hard, his chest rising heavily and Louis can feel every single action, can practically hear the thump of Styles’ heart.

Louis pulls away from him abruptly and grabs Styles’ chin, forcing him to look Louis in the eye. Louis’ hand winds down to his dick and Louis squeezes hard, smirking as he gasps.

‘Quit fucking around Styles. You’re better than that.’

Louis leaves him there, with a taste of something that he knows will continue. Out of obligation and slight disgust at himself, he finds his way back to Nick and simply watches him for a moment, wondering, achingly, if he could ever leave him. Louis knows the answer is no.

In many ways, Nick is undoubtedly his soul mate. He understands Louis in a way that he thought was meant only for movies, is so solid and firm and beautiful in Louis’ world of dirt and hate. And fuck, the two of them fought for what they had.

When Nick ran to London after a huge blowout argument, Louis caught the next train, tracked him down and brought him back, kissing all over Nick’s tired, sad face. When Louis felt disgusting and awful, and a vile fucking excuse for a human being and tried to break up with Nick, Nick would lock the doors and refuse, claiming over and over again that Louis was a prick and a wanker and was fucking annoying as fuck, but he was _Nick’s_. Always Nick’s, forever and ever.

But Styles, Styles didn’t even touch Louis’ barriers. He just glided right through, bringing his smiles and his laughter. And fucking chaos in his wake.

And all Louis’ ever wanted to do, since meeting him that first day, was destroy him. Rip him apart so that he could piece him back together again and even then some of the pieces would be too sharp for Louis to ever handle. Nick could, maybe. Nick was good with sharp things.

Louis never imagined that maybe whilst he ripped Styles apart, Styles chipped away at him in return, gluing back the pieces that had broken long before the two of them had ever met whilst simultaneously shattering everything Louis ever thought was perfect.

Harry wants to destroy him. As Nick watches Louis saunter his way over to him, his eyes running over Louis’ hair and lips, it seems he is completely aware of it.

-

Louis first sees them together a few weeks after the house party.

And it’s not a sordid moment, he didn’t walk in on them fucking or kissing or quoting Shakespeare to each other. Louis’ in town, picking up some stuff for his mum when he sees them in the local coffee shop. He found them sharing headphones and just listening to music together, silently.

He doesn’t know how it happened. Blocked Styles out enough at school to have missed the moment he and his boyfriend decided that friendship was a thing they wanted to try now.

Nick’s fingers tapping out the rhythm on his thigh whilst Styles’ sways in time to the music, his eyes closed.

After a moment or two, his eyes open suddenly and find Nick’s and Louis stumbles a little, the wind knocked out of him as he watches them look at each other.

Nick wants Styles, wants Harry, and nothing has ever been more obvious and it makes Louis feel sick because Nick belongs to him, and how dare Harry and a part of Louis wants to rip him fucking out for doing whatever it is to make Nick look at him as if he could spend years trying to figure him out, but then at the same time, Louis needs Nick to stop watching _him_.

Styles is for Louis’ eyes only. Louis wants to be the one watch to watch him with no restrictions. It makes Louis want to punch the wall that Nick was able to elicit that look of something close to content with nothing more than what is a probably a depressing as fuck hipster song on his Ipod.

Louis looks at the two of them together and imagines them kissing. He imagines them kissing and then them kissing him, and then them all moving together, all touching each other with hands everywhere and gasps and moans and Styles’ completely bare for him and Nick, and him and Nick alone and Louis wants it so badly he can’t breathe.

He walks away when he realises that Nick and Harry make way more sense that he and Nick or he and Harry ever did. That’d fit together endlessly better. That, as a couple, they’d be perfect.

Louis doesn’t bring it up with Nick. Maybe he would of done a couple of months ago, maybe even a couple of weeks ago, but everything is changing now and Louis has no idea how to stop it.

He kisses Louis and Louis can tell what he wants; they haven’t had sex, proper long sex, in weeks.  

Louis doesn’t know why he doesn’t want it. A part of him still craves Nick, longs for him so fiercely that his heart aches and his throat constricts. But he just _can’t_. Louis wants to decide when and where and how, he needs to be in control of it, because sex is so intimate. So terribly personal and how in the name of Christ, can he let someone else initiate something that could be his downfall?

Especially when he saw Nick look at someone else in a way that Louis had thought was meant for him alone.

-

He stares Louis down.

He’s adamant that this, this is something Louis will not be right about. This argument is one that will forever be Zayn’s to win.

Louis flicks the razor between his fingers, resisting the urge to grimace as it nicks his middle finger. He feels the trickle of blood run down and rest between his fingers, pooling there before continuing down onto his palm. Louis never looks away from him.

Zayn’s room is a tip.

Louis and Liam ripped it apart trying to find the razor or knife or scissor or whatever the fuck it was the Zayn used to slice himself open.

He looks betrayed, furiously betrayed. And Louis has no good explanation, no honest reasoning. He just needed him to stop.

Louis doesn’t know why he started, but he has a pretty good idea ( _his phone is ringing and he reaches past nick to answer it and it’s zayn and he’s crying and he’s outside and when Louis goes downstairs, zayn is covered in bruises and blood because his dad had been so so mean this time and zayn had fallen asleep curled on Louis chest with nick tucked up behind Louis and it was just all so fucked and Louis was crying as nick kissed his neck and when zayn breathed there was this awful moaning sound deep in his chest)_ and all Louis can imagine now is Zayn having to explain in twenty, thirty years why his arms and thighs are littered with thick white scars.

He doesn’t speak. Not through Louis’ harsh words or Liam’s mumbling apology.

He listens and stares until they have no choice but to leave. Liam refuses, standing vigilant and Louis sighs.

He shows no compassion. He simply looks meaningfully at Liam and then walks over to Zayn and scratches down his upper arm.

He makes no sound.

‘See how easily I hurt you Zayn? That’s because I’m a normal fucking human being. When I’m hurting I take it out on other people. Stop hurting yourself to try and ease the pain you already feel; that’s bullshit.’

Louis tucks a smoke between Zayn’s slightly parted lips and leaves him there, wincing when he glances back towards the door to see Zayn stumble into Liam’s arms, screaming against his chest.

Liam’s been in love with Zayn for as long as Louis can remember, and Zayn’s been spiralling into a place Louis’ not sure anyone can pull him back from for an equal amount of time. Louis hopes that when Zayn goes, when his best mate finally disappears to that place Louis can’t follow, he’ll leave Liam behind. The world needs more people like Liam Payne.

-

Louis doesn’t remember the day he and all of his friends lost Harry Styles, properly.

Maybe there wasn’t a specific point, Louis has no idea. Harry stopped wearing those stupid little flower crowns and slipped into outfits that would make whores blush. Even his singing voice changed, became broken and rugged and the songs he sang, no matter how cheerful the lyrics seemed, darkened when he stood behind the mike. Really spiced up the school’s choir, that was for sure.

He wore his sadness openly, unafraid of the stigma. Why should he care? He had already fallen down the rabbit hole, he didn’t care about the light at the top anymore.

Louis’ days were spent staring at him. Watching his every movement, because he wanted to be sure that if the old Harry did come back, he wouldn’t miss his appearance. Not that new Styles wasn’t sexy as fuck, he was- but sometimes Louis’ heart pounded desperately for a naïve smile or a word of kindness he truly didn’t deserve.

This Styles never showed him such kindness.

When Nick confronts him about it, the constant staring, Louis isn’t entirely sure of how to respond. Part of him wants to slap Nick and scratch him and fuck him and maybe even walk off, which would be possibly the strangest thing he would ever have done in their entire relationship. Louis’ never walked away, never backed down.

Nick throws accusations gently, each word more timid than the word before because he doesn’t want to say the words he’s thinking, he doesn’t even want to hear them out loud.

Louis begins to open his mouth, to yell at him, demand to know why he would ever think that Louis would stray, how he could ever even ask him that when Louis’ seen the fucking way Nick stares at Harry too. And Louis might watch Harry because he wants to wreck him, but Louis’ pretty sure, fuck.

He’s pretty sure Nick stares more frequently at Harry because he wants to learn to love him.

Louis has no doubt that if they were given time, Nick and Harry would be devoted to each other in months and it makes Louis wants to fucking _scream_.

But he doesn’t. Instead he kisses Nick hard and drags him down a darkened alley, falling with no grace or style, to his knees. His shock at Louis’ decision to initiate this, at Louis’ final willingness to give him this, clouds Nick’s mind and Louis can practically see the thoughts of Styles fly far far away.

Louis’ reminds himself to breathe as Nick pushes him forward and Nick reminds himself of how much he had fucking missed Louis and Nick’s hands wind in his hair and Nick’s lips form words he kind of hates to hear.

Louis figures out that the best way to banish Harry Styles from his boyfriend’s mind is to fuck him. Sometimes it helps Louis forget him too.

-

Louis has absolutely no idea how he ended up at his house, or even why it was his house he went to. Nick keeps calling him, Louis can feel his phone vibrating in his jeans pocket, and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop from pulling it out and answering it. He wants to walk away, he wants to answer his phone and make up with his boyfriend who he loves so stupidly much.

He doesn’t do that though.

When the door flings open, he wishes he had a camera. He wishes he had a camera, a video recorded, a fucking blank canvas, anything to capture Styles as he is now. His hair is pulled up with a headscarf (which Louis hasn’t seen in for-fucking-ever), curls springing wildly around his ears and neck. A baggy t-shirt hung off of his frame and his pajama bottoms were scruffy and tucked up around his stomach.

‘You’re not the pizza guy,’ he says and fuck it.

Louis’ hand curves around the back of his head as he kisses him, grinning against his lips at the frozen tension in Styles’ shoulders and arms. He just looked so beautifully normal, so much like _Harry_. He looked warm and chirpy, and even his words, his words had been Harry’s words. There was no bloodshot eyes, no hickeys, no booze or cigarettes, no fucking scars, just Harry.

‘It would help if you kissed back Styles,’ Louis breathes against him, heart thudding when arms stretch across his shoulders. His body slams into Louis’ surprisingly hard and Louis lands against the wall of his house with a hollow thud. Styles’ kiss turns vicious and Louis sees what’s happening before it even happens.

Harry’s turning into his armour, and with that armour on he’ll take control of the situation. There’ll be no cute blushes or breathy gasps. Styles will fuck him, and take some sadistic pleasure from making it as animalistic as he possibly can.

So Louis pulls away. He turns his head as Styles’ open lips land on Louis’ cheek, and he huffs out a breath of warm air, letting his forehead drop to Louis’ collarbone.

‘Not like that,’ Louis whispers. Louis knows then that he’s shattered.

‘I thought you found me hot, all broken and moody,’ he replies, obviously trying to be funny but the joke falls flat and the air just squeezes itself even tighter around the two of them.

‘I find you hot all the time. I’d just rather have my Harry back.’

‘He’s gone.’

‘I can see him. Inside of you.’

‘He’s not coming back Louis.’

‘I’ll just have to learn to love this version of you then,’

Harry freezes.

‘What did you just say?’

Louis breathes.

‘I said fuck me.’

This time it’s Harry against the wall, and Louis’ hand inside his boxers as he tries not to cry against Harry’s neck, thinking about the words that tumbled from his lips so easily. So fucking easily.

If this is what love is, that it should go and die in a fucking hole. Love should not be about sex that makes you feel slightly dirty outside, like the only way to get clean is to bury yourself inside this fragile human being. Love should not be wanting to pull their hair as hard as you can because you need them to understand how much it hurts.

Love should not be about knowing that you are cheating on your boyfriend right now, whilst not even knowing if he would be angry or just wish he’d been in your place instead. 

-

It was a lot of heat. If Louis remembers anything, he remembers that. He remembers Harry’s hands, big and gentle and rough all at the same time, burning across his back and sweeping down his thighs. He remembers bleeding from Harry’s mouth, his neck scorched by the touch of his tongue and teeth.

He remembers feeling like he was drowning, too much of everything everywhere and Harry, fuck, Harry. Harry never stopped touching him, never let him go at all, hands so possessively touching him like Louis was created for him and him alone and they were both exploding, exploding and reforming from each other.

‘Don’t say his name,’

‘I’m not going to.’

‘I don’t want you to think of him.’

‘Wasn’t. Just you, God, only you.’

‘Don’t fucking lie to me. I know it’s him as well, I can fucking see it’s him as well, I get it, just please, for now, don’t think of him. Don’t say his name.’

When Harry sat Louis down on his dick, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back as Louis ground himself down into Harry’s lap, he started crying. And Louis licked and kissed and smeared Harry’s tears all over his face, because fuck, how could he not.

Louis thought of Nick and he thought of Harry hating who he was but loving his God more than anything and how Louis was so tired and his life had been falling apart for so so long and when Harry was touching his dick he felt like he had reached heaven but when Nick kissed his lips he felt _home_.

They had sex for hours. They touched for even longer and they kissed for as long as they could. They didn’t think about Nick. Not even when Louis drew Nick’s name on Harry’s thigh or when Harry whispered quietly ‘he looks beautiful some days’.

They had sex and when they woke in the morning, Louis fell apart.

-

It’s Zayn that makes him come back. Zayn who Louis basically gave up on.

Louis lost himself; endlessly, he drifted. He woke in the morning to Harry’s face pressed against his neck and his lips chapped and sore and knew, without any kind of doubt, that he was fucked.

He had slipped out of Harry’s grasp, pulled on his clothes and ran. He threw his phone in a bin and then went and grabbed it back out, because he didn’t actually have that much self preservation. He walked home, missed a week of school and ignored every single text message and phone call that anyone sent him.

He didn’t do the thing that Zayn did. He didn’t burn himself out by drinking as much as he could, and taking as many drugs as he could and fucking random people with no condom and barely any lube. He didn’t do that.

He stayed in bed, watching shitty morning telly with the curtains drawn and lukewarm tea. He traced the condensation on the window pane in his room and thought about Nick and Harry and how they both belonged to him, God, they both were _his_ , but at the same time, they weren’t.

At the same fucking time, they weren’t. And he couldn’t have both of them.

But really, that was all he had fucking wanted. Four hours into knowing Nick, Louis had wanted to fuck him more desperately than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life. Two weeks into knowing Nick, he’d wanted to call him his boyfriend so badly that when he’d finally sent Nick the text saying ‘so we’re going out and all that shit now yeah?’, he’d been so nervous he’d wanted to throw up.

Four minutes into meeting Harry Styles he’d wanted to bite down on the boys neck and mark him the fuck up. Two weeks into knowing Harry Styles, he’d hated him in a way that he’d never hated anyone, because Harry made him fucking _want_. But not enough to leave Nick. Never enough to leave Nick.

So Louis had a need in his lungs that could never be satisfied and a guilt in his heart he wasn’t sure he could live with. He couldn’t burn himself out because those two beautiful, stupid, wonderful boys- they’d ruined him.

Louis’ leaving his house to walk to the shop on the corner for some cigarettes when he sees Zayn. Zayn walks right up to him, with gaunt cheeks but sober eyes and places his hand on the side of Louis’ neck, a soft smile on his beautiful face.

‘Zap, Lou.’

Louis can’t breathe with it. ‘Zap,’

Zayn yanks him into a hug, cradling the back of Louis’ head as he trembles in his best mates arms because Zayn is _there_. Zayn is there and he’s breathing and smiling and his eyes are completely sober, and he knew he would loose him, watch as his best friend shattered, but now he’s there. He’s back and beautiful and Louis has missed him so fucking much.

‘Mate,’ Louis breathes into Zayn’s jacket, inhaling the smell of paint and cigarettes. ‘I couldn’t-’

‘It’s okay’

‘I should have done something, I should have, should have saved you or something.’

‘Lou,’ Zayn hisses, holding him tighter. ‘You saved me by staying away. I promise.’

It’s sunny outside, warm in a way that’s not stifling.

‘I’m sorry I got so lost bro,’ Zayn whispers. ‘Won’t happen again.’

Louis holds him close and doesn’t let him go.

-

When Liam comes round to Louis’ that night, shyly slipping his hand into Zayn’s when Louis puts on The Avengers and grinning like he’s won the whole fucking world, Louis decides that maybe it’s okay that bad shit happens, especially if it means that sometimes the good shit gets doled out to the people that really deserve it.

-

‘So you love me but you won’t be with me?’

‘Right.’

‘And I’m supposed to take that how?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Fuck Louis. Fuck!’ Nick’s fist slams into the wall. Absently, Louis thinks it’s a good idea that Nick’s mum and dad are away for the night.

‘Explain to me why, Lou.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Not good enough.’

‘What do you want me to say? I just fucking said it to you. I don’t think this is working anymore.’

‘I hate you,’ Nick says and he’s shaking. He’s shaking so much, Louis can see it in his clenched fists. Louis’ not going to cry. He can’t cry because if he starts to cry Nick will know it’s not real and he won’t let him leave. So Louis sits with the ache in his chest and tries to breathe as the one thing he loves most in the entire fucking world falls to pieces around him.

Nick’s room smells like warmth and Louis hates that he’s preparing for the cold.

‘I hate you so, so much.’ Nick repeats.

‘I know.’

‘You know that means I love you? When I say that, God, even when I say that, you know that means I love you. I love you so much Louis,’

‘I know.’

‘So.’

‘So,’

‘Please be with me,’ Nick begs. It catches in his throat and comes out all weird, and Louis’ still sat on the end of his bed staring at this boy because he is the beginning and the end of everything Louis knows.

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ Nick demands.

‘I just can’t.’

‘You just won’t.’

‘That’s not what I said,’ Louis shakes his head. When Nick first fucked him, Louis cried afterwards and Nick, instead of laughing, kissed his mouth and told him he looked delicious. He probably fell in love then, he’s not really sure.

He feels like his heart’s breaking.

‘Well nothing else fits Lou,’ Nick says, his voice trembling. ‘You can’t be with me but you do love me, so it’s not that you _can’t_ be with me, it’s that you won’t.’

‘What difference does it makes? It’s not like either way can make any of this better so what’s the point?’ Louis snaps, throwing his hands up into the air in frustration. Nick takes a step closer and catches them, holding onto Louis’ hand tightly as he drops to his knees in front of him.

‘It might,’ Nick replies softly.

‘How?’

‘Well, if you’re doing this because you won’t be with me, then there’s always hope pet, right? Always hope?’ Nick’s crying. Louis can’t breathe.

‘I don’t know,’

‘How the fuck can you not know the answer to that?’ Nick shouts, dropping Louis hands and walking away, stumbling his steps as he rubs at his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Louis whispers and Nick turns around. He stares at him, only for a second before flying across the room and pushing Louis back onto the bed, his lips hard and forceful against Louis’ own.

‘Nick,’ Louis groans, involuntarily arching upwards, his dick rubbing up against Nick’s own. ‘Don’t do this,’

‘I still get you hard Lou,’ Nick grunts, grasping between them to grope at Louis’ dick, holding it gently. ‘I still get you hard and I still make you laugh and I still piss you off. You’re still in love with me. You told me that, you said those words, so I’m afraid my lovely darling, that you are not fucking leaving me.’

Louis yanks one of his hands free and presses it over his eyes, pushing pushing pushing all the tears back into his head, collecting the stray droplets between his fingers. ‘Nick,’ he says and he didn’t mean for it come out like a sob, but then, really, Louis didn’t mean for a lot of things to happen.

‘Louis, love, why are you doing this hmm?’ Nick murmurs, shifting down the bed so that his body is still pinned down against Louis’, so that Louis can’t escape, can never leave. He peppers kisses along Louis’ collarbones, strokes down Louis’ sides as he shakes with it all. ‘I know you want to be with me so why?’

‘Can’t,’ Louis gasps out. ‘Can’t, can’t, can’t.’

Nick sits up suddenly, straddling Louis’ thighs. He yanks Louis’ top up desperately, hitching it up around his armpits and pressing down on Louis’ hips when he tries to buck Nick off. Leaning forward, with shaky breaths, he presses his lips down over Louis’ heart, sucking a bruising kiss into his chest.

‘Is it ‘cos of Harry?’ Nick whispers quietly. Louis sobs, exhaling the sound into the open air of Nick’s bedroom, the peeling wallpaper and scribbles in that one corner that is so aptly named, ‘Lou’s Corner’.

‘It’s okay Lou, I don’t mind-’

‘I find you boring Nick.’ Louis says suddenly, the tears still sliding down his cheeks. ‘I find you boring and not enough and I don’t want you anymore.’

Slowly, methodically, from that moment on, Louis broke his something beautiful and didn’t expect to ever get it back.

-

He rings Zayn and they go out and fuck shit up and bruise their knuckles; Zayn punches people out and Louis kisses people with blood still in his mouth.

When Liam finally comes to pick them up, Harry is trailing along behind him, and Louis could have laughed with it all.

Liam kisses Zayn’s mouth and tells him he’s beautiful. Harry stares at Louis like he’s never seen him before. 

Liam leads Zayn away and Harry takes a stumbling Louis up to the roof of some building, handing him a cigarette and a lighter.

Louis doesn’t say anything. He hates Harry so much in this moment, hates him more than he’s ever hated anyone. He ruined everything, he came and ruined everything and Louis will never get it back will never be okay again and it’s all his fault, all his fault, everything his fault, his own fault-

‘Breathe Louis.’

‘Fuck you.’

Harry leaves him with a slow burning cigarette and no idea how to get down.

-

Nick disappears for a month and when he comes back there’s blonde highlights in his quiff and his clothes are different. Lots of skinny jeans and jumpers and necklaces and tight tops and Louis doesn’t know whether he hates it or loves Nick more than he’s ever loved anyone.

The group splits, which is to be expected. No one could survive the fall out of their break up and so Nick takes his friends and Louis takes Zayn and everyone pretends to be fine. Nick also takes Harry.

Nick takes Harry and Louis isn’t surprised. When the universe was made, someone saw Nick and Harry and shaped them to be together. Louis just sort of got in the way for a bit.

He wonders if Harry still hates being gay. Still curses God for something he can’t change. Louis thinks maybe he’s coming to terms with it now. Found a way to let his sexuality and his religion co-exist together.

Louis doesn’t know and doesn’t think he will ever know. He hasn’t spoken to Harry since that morning on the roof and he hasn’t spoken to Nick since they broke up and he himself feels like he’s breaking.

So when Liam invites them all, _all_ , to a beach party at half term where they can stay in this shoddy little shack of a house that his aunt owns, Louis’ immediate answer is fuck no.

‘Tommo please,’ Liam whines as he trails after Louis at the end of the school day, his big eyes widening even more.

‘You’re not a dog dickhead, put those eyes away.’

‘I really want you to come.’

‘Tough shit.’

‘It won’t be weird.’

‘It’ll be weird as fuck.’

Liam stops him then by tugging on his arm. ‘Look I know this is hard-’

Louis rolls his eyes.

‘But-’ Liam continues ‘We haven’t seen you in so long Lou. Yeah, like, we see you all the time at school but it’s not the same is it? When was the last time we actually hung out?’

‘Had shit to do Liam,’ Louis practically whispers, fiddling with his bag strap so he doesn’t have to look his friend in the eye.

‘Please just think about it yeah?’

Louis says yes. Then he actually says yes. And it’s a Saturday night and he’s sat on the beach with the sand cold on his legs as the others chill by a bonfire that Louis’ not a hundred percent sure they were allowed to start.

Harry and Nick are sitting on some rocks a short while away, Harry clutching one of Nick’s long hands between his own. It hurts actually, to look at them properly. After ten minutes or so, they jump down from the rocks and hug, Harry’s hands gently raking through Nick’s hair for a few short seconds. He presses a kiss to Nick’s cheek and turns back to walk up the beach towards Louis as Nick meanders down to the water’s edge, his hands deep in his pockets.

Louis wants him to turn away, walk away, smile but go and sit on his own somewhere. He’s not sure he can stand to see Harry today. Not when he can see what’s happening with him and Nick, what he fucking knew would happen but couldn’t bear to see. One of the main reasons he broke it off in the first place.

But Harry quietly kneels down in the sand beside Louis, pulling his legs out from underneath him and tucking up his knees. He’s wearing shorts. His tanned legs have sand pressed into them.

Louis’ angry at him. It’s not unusual that he feels this emotion, he’s just sort of faded into vague acceptance that Harry’s the reason that Nick can now fuck other people, cos Louis broke it off because he wanted to fuck Harry so bad but keep Nick but knew that Nick and Harry would work so prettily together, and still, after all of it all Louis properly wants is to have them both. Love them both.

Because Louis couldn’t take being caught in the middle of it, loving one boy so much it makes him feel sick sometimes, and fiercely needing the other as well, and knowing without a doubt that they both want each other.

‘Maybe we should have sex.’

The words are spoken so quietly that Louis almost doesn’t hear and he doesn’t speak ‘cos what the fuck is Harry expecting him to reply.

‘Why?’ Louis asks

Louis looks at him and damn he’s beautiful. Typically, openly beautiful. He smiles and Louis realises why it is that people love him without even talking to him because Christ, how can they not? What Louis doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to understand is why Nick fell for it too. Is currently falling for it. Cos Nick doesn’t fall for anyone’s crap, he’s been putting up with Louis for long enough that big innocent eyes literally have no effect, but one look from Harry and it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.

And Louis hates that. Fuck, Louis hates it so much.

‘Thought maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much if you got to screw me again.’

‘I don’t hate you Harry-’

‘Lou.’ He stops him and Louis doesn’t finish his sentence. He hates how Harry captured him so. How he is capturing his boyfriend. Fucking, ex boyfriend.

‘Fall in love with him Harry. If you want me to like you more, fall in love with him and kiss him and laugh at him and don’t ever look back.’

Harry’s silent and Louis knows why. Nick and him were always surprisingly selfish when it came to each other, neither one able to stop their jealousy and possessiveness. Louis always felt like there was a part of each of them that existed only for each other, each boy needing the other one to feel complete.

‘When you say fall in love with him-’

‘I mean let yourself do it. I mean stop looking at me to love you back. I mean help him get over me. I mean fall in love the way the two of you were meant to and never fucking apologise for it.’

Louis watches as Harry’s eyes flicker upwards to look at Nick. He takes a deep shuddering breath.

‘Will it fix us? You and me?’ He asks and Louis shrugs.

‘It could be a start.’

He nods and stands up, smacking the sand off his bum and legs. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’

‘If you want me to Lou.’ He walks off then, and Louis sees the small flicker of a lighter and smoke from his cigarette or joint, he doesn’t know, swirl up into the air.

Louis presses the heel of his palm into his eyes until he sees small yellow dots float across his vision. Harry and him were fucked up beforehand. Now, Louis doesn’t even know what’s going to happen, doesn’t know how to fix this mess that he’s started. Doesn’t know how to make things better and isn’t sure if there’s even any point in trying.

-

Louis laughs and he’s certain if it wasn’t for Harry’s hand tightly wrapped around Nick, Nick would have slapped him.

‘Harry.’ Nick says softly and Louis knows he’s asking Harry to leave and Louis wonders if Haz’ll pick up on it. If he’ll leave so that Nick can possibly punch him in the face and scream.

But Harry doesn’t leave and Louis’ pretty certain it’s because he went missing for four whole days and apparently Nick almost lost his fucking mind, and now Louis’ back and laughing and there’s no one else in Nick’ house and anything could happen between them. Louis doesn’t think Harry would let that happen though.

Harry leans against Nick’s porch a cigarette between his lips as he looks between them. His thumb is gently swiping across Nick’s pulse point, a constant reminder that he was there- but his gaze had never left Louis’. From the minute Louis sauntered up the front garden, dirty and smelly and grinning from his high, Harry’s eyes didn’t leave his.

‘Where have you been?’ Harry throws the question directly, slowly taking the smoke out of his mouth and raising his eyebrows.

‘Harry.’ Nick says again, pulling away his hand to push at Harry’s stomach and it’s because he’s telling him to leave it, this is something Nick can handle, just turn, walk away Harry. But he doesn’t. He just stands there looking between the two of them, and fuck, he looks so sad. So so sad.  

Louis thinks maybe Harry was worried about him too.

‘Louis,’ Harry says again but louder. Louis smirks.

‘Styles, calm down. I needed to get away for a bit. It’s fine, nothing happened.’ Louis replies, slightly patronisingly and he can see the flash across Harry’s eyes where he clearly wants to hit him as well. Louis thinks he should. Wants him to, both him and Nick at the same time. _Hit me hit me hit me._

‘Louis, no one knew where the fuck you were!’ Nick yells this and Louis feels his smirk disappear, his eyes blank. It’s an awful noise when Nick shouts, truly truly awful.

‘I had to get away.’ He says again and Nick laughs hollowly.

‘Oh really?’ Harry drawls. ‘Something so drastic you had to up and leave without telling your parents, your friends, your ex boyfriend, who by the way has been slowly losing his mind. Was it really that bad?’ He asks, stepping closer to Louis who nods.

‘Yes.’

‘What? Hmm, did you run out of cigarettes?’ Nick bites out, eyes gleaming brightly as his jaw clenches. ‘Did you see a pretty boy you liked the look of, thought you could fucking ruin? Realised that you’d caused enough shit here so it was time to move on? Did you decide that-’

‘I couldn’t stop looking at you. Both of you.’

His words stop them. Nick narrows his eyes and Louis stares right back. Harry’s breathing had got so heavy and so laboured and Louis wasn’t sure if he could fuck it up anymore than he already had.

‘What?’ Nick spits out.

‘I can’t stop looking at you both and it’s killing me. You’re so, you just work and have this chemistry that is so natural and for us… And I was this close Nick,’ he says, holding her thumb and forefinger close together to demonstrate. ‘I was going to kiss you and cry and beg Harry to be with me or try and run away with you and we both know there is no way in Hell that either of you would have said no. But I didn’t. I called Zayn and got him to drop me off at my aunts. I stayed away because otherwise I would of broken your heart all over again, and maybe even Harry’s as well.’ Louis finishes. His voice shook a little as he spoke, but he didn’t cry which counted as a win on his part. A major victory.

Nick looks wrecked and Harry looks broken and Louis doesn’t want any of it anymore. Sad encompasses everything, a big word for a big feeling, but it’s all Louis can notice. All he ever feels anymore is sad.

Louis turns to Harry then, watching his beautiful face and feeling so fucking sad ‘So the next time I do something that doesn’t quite make sense in that pretty little head of yours, ask me about it first. Don’t assume to understand anything I do.’

He leaves straight after, running down Nick’s yard as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and places it between his lips.

-

Months slip by quickly after that. Suddenly, Harry and Nick have been going out for a little over a year and Louis still feels like he’s drowning from it. He misses Nick something awful, like a physical pain and every time he sees Harry he misses something he never even had. Slowly, carefully, he untangles himself from their friends at school, keeping his grasp tight on Zayn and Liam but even with them, only letting himself see them on the weekends. At school, he keeps his head down and works hard and leaves school as quickly as possible so he doesn’t have to see all the people he used to love and own kissing new people, kissing people he also wants to kiss.

Louis doesn’t let himself think about it. He hangs out with Niall a lot. It’s really easy with Niall and he’s quick to sink into the Irish boy’s laugh and jokes and laid back attitude. Niall looks at him like the sun shines out his arse, and Louis would be lying if he said he didn’t miss that kind of attention.

Louis’ sat at one of the cafeteria’s tables one day, desperately trying not to look over at his old table when Niall walks quickly over to the table and drops his shit on the floor, staring at Louis in a surprisingly serious way. Louis arches one eyebrow.

‘Alright Lou?’ Niall asks. He’s breathless and twitchy in a way Louis really doesn’t like.

‘Yes. Are you?’ Louis replies.

‘Yeah good mate. Good.’ Niall responds vaguely, eyes flittering all over the place.

‘Right,’ Louis drawls. ‘Except for how that’s obviously bullshit, so why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?’

Niall looks at him worriedly. ‘I heard some stuff.’

Louis frowns. ‘Okay. About what?’

‘Nick.’

Louis heart pounds a little harder than normal and he takes a second, if that, to school his expression. ‘What about him?’

‘His mum got, like, into a really bad car crash on Saturday. She’s still in the hospital and people think that Nick was crying in the toilet today.’

Louis’ not sure if Niall keeps talking after that, glancing straight over to his old table to see if Nick’s sitting there. Which he’s not. Harry is though, looking tired and beautiful and worried. Louis’s out of his seat before he even knows what he’s planning to say when he gets there.

His feet feel heavy and awkward as he walks over to the table, his eyes fixed on Harry. When Harry finally looks up at him, Louis can feel a blush rising to his cheeks. Harry doesn’t look angry though or confused, instead he smiles. A weary smile but a smile nonetheless.

‘Uhh,’ Louis says, unsure of how to ask for what he wants.

‘It’s good to see you Lou,’ Harry says softly and Louis feels like someone’s punching him in the chest. Harry Styles is a baffling fucking creature and it makes Louis tired.

‘Nick.’ He says bluntly. ‘Nick is. Where is he? Is he okay?’

Harry nods and points over Louis’ shoulder. ‘He’s there.’

Louis spins on his heel to find Nick stood in the middle of the cafeteria with tired and swollen eyes, staring at Louis like he’s a ghost. He looks broken and too tall which means that every part of Louis is screaming _fix him you love him fix him fix him_

Louis glances back to Harry. ‘I’m sorry,’

Taking a deep breath, he walks quickly over to Nick and throws his arms around Nick’s neck. Nick immediately responds, his arms winding around Louis’ back to hold him closer to him. Louis cups the back of Nick’s head and strokes through his hair. ‘I heard about your mum, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’

And once he’s started that’s all he can say really. Whispering to Nick as he shakes, bleeding out his apologies. Louis doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop saying sorry because he’s not sure he can.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there for. It could be minutes or seconds, he’s not really sure. He jolts when he feels another hand, large across his shoulder blades. He glances to the left to see Harry stood facing the two of them, his arms around both of them. Louis just watches him for a minute, traces the shape of Harry’s face.

‘It’s okay Louis,’ he breathes out. Louis just holds Nick tighter to him and never stops looking at Harry, not for one minute.

-

When Louis and Harry have _the_ conversation about Harry’s sexuality, it’s because Harry ran out of the cafeteria when Nick tried to hold his hand in the lunch queue. Harry has no problem with being camp or explicit or overly flirty with both boys and girls at school because he can control it. And laugh off any rumours later about how he’s gay and in love with Nick or in love with Louis or in love with penis.

But the thing is, sexuality is so fixed and Louis knows it’s so fixed and when a fixed thing is pressing down on your back it’s hard not to feel the weight. And Nick has never been closeted.

Not ever. In the entire time Louis’ known him Nick has refused to ever hide him or limit himself or lock himself away because of there’s a part of him that some people think is shameful. And it can be hard, worse than that, it can be painful to be with someone who is unapologetic about who they are when you’re still finding out where the edges stop and start.

‘If you fucking walk away from me right now, I swear to God Styles…’

‘What? You’ll do what? Fuck you Louis.’

‘Oooo big words for such a scared little boy.’

‘I am not scared.’

‘You’re fucking shaking.’

‘I am not scared.’

‘Then do it.’

‘I am not scared.’

‘Yeah, cos it’s really important that I’m the one you convince.’

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Simply showing you something you already know.’

‘Great. Thank you. I get it.’

‘No, Harry, you really don’t.’

‘I’m not scared.’

‘You’re crying.’

‘That doesn’t mean I’m scared.’

‘It’s, for fuck sakes Haz. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You want to fuck guys, great. That’s your fucking business. Nobody else’s.’

‘It’s not that simple Louis.’

‘No it actually is.’

‘I, it could ruin everything.’

‘That’s not the reason you’re freaking out.’

‘It is.’

‘Harry.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t want to be gay.’

‘Louis! How could you say that? I’m not, I’m not homophobic Lou. With Nick, I love him. I love him.’

‘I know you’re not.’ Louis feels like his heart is too tight inside his chest. ‘You just don’t want to be gay.’

‘I don’t have a problem with being gay.’

‘Then come out.’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘I am not afraid.’

‘Harry…’

‘I don’t want to be gay Louis.’

Louis smiles.

‘But I want to love him. And that’s bigger than anything else.’

Louis sits down next to Harry on one of the rickety old school benches that’s been around for as long as Louis’ attended school. He watches Harry’s hands as he fiddles and twists the rings on his fingers.

‘My parents know, I think. And Gemma. They all-‘ Harry exhales shakily, scrubbing a hand across his face. Louis thinks he looks tired. ‘They all know. They keep making these hints, about how God loves everyone, how they love everyone. No matter what. How it’s okay.’

Louis nods. ‘They’re right.’

‘Yeah but I’m not Lou.’ Harry says. ‘I’m not okay and I’ve never been okay with this and I don’t know _why_.’

Louis sort of aches for him a little. ‘Why aren’t you? Cool with it?’

Harry looks at him blankly. ‘I don’t know. I have no idea. I’m just scared, I’m scared of it being wrong and I’m scared of God hating me and I’m scared of how when I touch Nick, Christ, when I was touching _you_ \- that never felt bad to me. It didn’t feel wrong or dirty or something to be ashamed of.’

Louis cheeks are bright red and hot as he listens to Harry talk.

‘It never felt wrong Lou,’ Harry whispers. If someone asked Louis to describe Harry Styles in a sentence, he would refuse in a fucking heartbeat. Because there was no way he could ever fit everything into a sentence. Everything that needed to be said about Harry was too big for just one sentence, too big for a whole fucking book.

Harry, himself, was just too big for it all.

Louis thinks about the cigarettes Harry smoked and the weed he bought and the sex he had and how his eyes used to be so dead. How Harry ripped himself apart and then slowly built himself back up in a way that Louis never could.

Louis stands from the bench and squints at the sunlight. It’s a surprisingly cold day, the air just on the edge of freezing. There’s sunlight though and when it catches Harry’s face in the right way the green of his eyes explode.

Tentatively, Louis places his hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing only for a second. Harry looks up at him, his eyes wide and confused.

‘Think it’s time you stopped beating yourself up, H. Gotta let go at some point yeah?’ He murmurs, smiling gently.

Louis turns and walks away, yanking his phone out of his pocket to fire of a text to Liam and let him know that he’ll probably be late to their English class.

‘Lou?’

He stops and turns back, raising his eyebrow at Harry. ‘Yeah?’

‘We really miss you.’

When Louis swallows it’s like he swallowing glass, and it cuts him all the way down to his heart. He spins back around and keeps on walking.

‘Really miss you too,’ he whispers, too quietly for Harry to hear.

-

It takes less than two minutes for Louis to notice the guy, smile at him and then get pushed up against the nearest wall. Louis shuts his eyes as the guy kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin around Louis’ collarbone. He shifts his hips up a little, aware that he’s getting hard in a very vague way.

The guy grasps Louis’ chin and pushes, knocking Louis’ head back into the wall before he kisses him, tongue hot and insistent in Louis’ mouth. Louis runs his hands down over the guys arms before winding them around his neck, trying really really hard to not think _too small too small too small._

It takes Louis a fair amount of time to blink back into reality when the guy gets pulled off of him, the heat from his body disappearing almost as quickly as it had arrived. Louis blinks dazedly around, rolling his eyes when he sees Nick.

‘That was quite enough of that, I think,’ Nick says primly, making shooing gestures with his hand. The guy throws Nick the finger before sauntering off into the crowd and Louis lets his head fall back against the wall again.

‘The fuck is going on?’ Louis asks tiredly, his head swimming. He’s drunk and he misses Nick and wants to kiss Harry and nothing feels easy at all.

‘He was rather rude,’ Nick says and Louis rolls his eyes.

‘Think you gave him enough reason to be Nicholas.’

Nick doesn’t say anything in reply, just watches Louis blankly. Louis stares right back. Or at least, he does until he can’t anymore. Because looking at Nick when he’s Louis’ ex is too hard, and Louis’ too drunk.

Louis mumbles something which he think was meant to be a goodbye, pushing off from the wall when Nick grabs his wrist to stop him from walking away.

‘Louis, stay.’

Louis narrows his eyes. ‘Fuck off, I’m not a dog.’

Nick sighs. ‘Really? We’re gonna do this right here?’

Louis yanks his wrist out of Nick’s grasp and stumbles forwards, pushing himself into Nick’s space. ‘Fuck you. We’re not doing anything. Fuck off, fuck you,’

Louis turns and throws himself into the crowd of people, the throbbing in his head growing and growing. He pushes through people, ignoring their protests. Anything to get away from him. Anything to get away from the situation.

‘Lou, I am literally just gonna follow you love. So. Whenever you want to be a mature adult about this- hard for you I know- I will be right there.’

Louis yanks his hands into his hair and groans. He spins on his heel so quickly that he stumbles into the stairs, swearing when the bannister stabs into his back.

‘Fuck, ow,’ he shouts, hand immediately going to the spot on his back, rubbing across his skin.

‘Oh love,’ Nick says and Louis has no idea how he can hear him over all the noise, of music and teenagers and bottles smashing. But he can. He can hear how sad Nick sounds.

He slumps backwards, his head tilted back against the stairs as he continues to rub at the sore patch on his back. He can feel the tears welling up in his throat and fucking hates it. He swallows three times and blinks curiously when Nick’s suddenly stood in front of him, his eyes boring into Louis.

Louis huffs out a pathetic laugh as Nick’s large hand finds the small of his back, unapologetically pushing under his top to stroke across Louis’ skin.

He’s drunk with very little willpower and Nick smells like Nick which he hasn’t smelt in a while and it’s all so very sad, so he pushes forward a little, right into Nick’s space. It charges the air automatically- the place between their bodies thrumming with new tension. Louis’ body is singing to him, _what are you doing move forward he’s yours he’s yours take him back god Louis now_

And he almost gives into it. Almost.

Except he, fuck, he loves Harry and he can’t hurt Harry, not by kissing Nick. He gave that up for them. He gave himself up for them.

So he lurches away, stumbling out of Nick’s grasp and towards the door, uncaring of the people he shoulders into, the drinks that get knocked onto the floor in his wake. The air is cool on his skin, night air nice in a way that Louis can only appreciate if he’s drunk.

‘Louis,’ Nick calls from behind him. Louis throws his middle finger up over his shoulder and continues to walk away.

‘Louis, love, stop.’

‘Go the fuck away.’

‘I’m still in love with you.’

Louis stops breathing. Without breaking his step, he spins on his heel and walks back to Nick, shoving him hard in the chest so he stumbles back.

‘The fuck?’ He yells. ‘What are you trying to do?’

Nick holds his hands out, watching Louis steadily. ‘Tell you I love you. I still love you.’

‘Don’t,’ Louis says, wrapping his arms around himself. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Love you so much. Harry does, Harry… as well.’

‘Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,’ Louis chants, looking down at the floor and shaking his head. Nick’s arms wrap around his shoulders, tugging him against Nick’s chest. He smells so good. The fight goes out of him, and he nudges his face underneath Nick’s chin, breathing shakily against him.

‘We both care about you so much, Lou.’

‘I hate you. Both of you.’

‘Come back home with me. Come back with me to Harry.’

Louis’ fingers are trembling as he curls them into Nick’s jacket. ‘Go away.’

‘I can’t Louis. Not until you believe me. Do you have any idea, God, do you have any idea what it’s like to miss you?’

‘Fuck you,’ Louis cries, trying to wriggle his way out of Nick’s arms. ‘Of course I know, I’m not some sort of emotionally stunted robot. I was _in love_ with you, idiot. In love with you. And then you went, you went and found Harry and I was just-’

Nick holds him tighter, his arms shaking around Louis’ body. ‘I never stopped being in love with you. Always. Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t you listen to me? It was always, forever, always you. Harry just, he happened as well.’

Louis sighs heavily, slumping a little against Nick’s chest. ‘Go away Nicholas, I’m tired.’

‘We want you there. We want you with us, darling. We need you with us,’

And as far as Louis’ concerned, there’s literally nothing in the world that could cause more shit in his life than if he did as Nick asked. But his life feels like it’s been completely decimated right in front of his very eyes, ripped apart and then those pieces torn up and then burnt- just for good measure. And if it’s already that bad, if he already feels this wrecked, then it shouldn’t really be a fucking problem, should it?

So, Louis goes.

-

Walking into Nick’s house again, after months of staying as far away as possible makes his chest ache a little. He let’s his fingertips run across the bumpy wall paper, unable to help the small upward tilt of his lips when he spots the family picture on the hallway wall, that Louis tilted to the left on one of his first visits to Nick’s house. Nick’s mum had called it artistic and left it like that. Nick had rolled his eyes and dragged Louis in for their first kiss.

‘Parents are out,’ Nick says like Louis’ fucking blind and had missed the empty driveway and dead quiet house.

He doesn’t say anything back. He kicks his shoes off at the stairs, waiting patiently whilst Nick does the same. When Nick turns to look at him, he can’t help but raise and eyebrow and his chin slightly watching as a soft expression floods across Nick’s face.

Louis’s missed him so much.

‘Come on love,’ Nick says and wraps his long fingers around Louis’ wrist, tugging his up the stairs and towards his room. It’s only when he actually pushes the bedroom door open and saunters inside that Louis starts to feel sick. Wonders briefly whether he can just dart downstairs and run the fuck away.

Except he feels that if he did do that, run away from them now, they wouldn’t chase after him. They’d let him go and fuck up his life more and he’d never feel Nick’s smile again or touch Harry’s hair.

Harry’s lounging on the bed when Louis peers into Nick’s room, his steps still a little stumbling from the alcohol. He isn’t wearing a shirt and his skin looks soft and warm, the tattoos on his chest dulled slightly by the fairy lights hung from Nick’s ceiling. Louis wants to touch so badly.

Harry smiles softly, lifting his left hand to pinch at his bottom lip. He regards Louis openly, completely uncaring of the obvious way his eyes roam over Louis’ body. Inexplicably, he wants to cry a little.

Nick’s toeing his shoes off in the corner, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and throwing it over his desk chair. Unable to take Harry’s gaze for any longer, Louis meanders over to ‘his’ corner of the room.

His dodgy drawings and rude little notes are still pencilled into the wall. His heart hurts a little that Nick never thought to wash them away or paint over them. He trails the pad of his index finger over the messily scrawled ‘love you’ that he’d scratched in on his and Nick’s one year anniversary.

When he turns back around, Harry’s directly behind him, scratching idly at the bottom of his stomach. Louis swallows deeply and flits his eyes around. He doesn’t know what to do, how to behave. This isn’t like last time and Louis’ clever enough to know that neither Nick nor Harry will let him bring anger into the bedroom.

Louis’ kisses can’t be biting.

‘You scared?’ Harry asks, his voice low and gravelly.

Louis scoffs and turns his head to the left. ‘Of you Styles? Never.’

His voice cracks a little on the last word. He swallows again and wipes his hands on the back of his jeans, trying to ignore the low thrum of arousal he feels at having Harry so close and the steady throb of alcohol at his temple. He can see Nick in the corner of his eye and Louis has never wanted to run and give in so badly before.

Harry leans in to kiss his cheek and Louis forgets how to breathe.

‘I don’t scare you Lou?’

‘No,’ he whispers.

Harry hums and takes a step forward, nudging at Louis’ cheek with his nose before placing another open mouthed kiss at the bottom of Louis’ jaw. As he does so, Louis instinctively takes a step back, breath hitching a little when the wall presses into his back. The side of Nick’s desk digs a little painfully into the side of his thigh, but all Louis can focus on, all Louis can _feel_ is Harry’s lips dragging down his neck and collarbones and cheeks.

He doesn’t know how Harry can seem to be everywhere at once, but he is, he’s everywhere and Louis brings his hands up to clutch at Harry’s hair, a little desperately. Harry’s hands curve around Louis’ hips, pressing him further into the wall.

His lips brush gently against Louis’ when he speaks. ‘It’s okay,’

Louis’ eyes flicker over his shoulder to where Nick’s stood by the bed, hands deep in his jean pockets.

‘I don’t…’ Louis begins, cutting himself off when he hears the wobble in his voice.

‘We’ve got you Louis. We’ve got you.’

Then Harry kisses him. And it’s so good, perfect pressure everywhere, his lips slotting and sliding against Louis’ like he’s knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s done it a million times before; like the last time they did this Louis wasn’t scratching Nick’s name into Harry’s back.

It only takes a minute or so before Louis’ fully hard, Harry grinding slowly into him. It hurts a little, his jeans too tight and the zipper pressed against him in a way that’s really not that pleasant. But Louis’ always been one for pain and the fact that it’s Harry- that Harry’s here in this room, his hands kneading at Louis’ arse and kissing Louis so so perfectly whilst Nick fucking watches means that Louis’ probably the hardest he’s ever been in his life.

Harry tugs him forward by pushing gently at the small of his back, guiding Louis towards him. He falls backwards onto the bed, grinning widely whilst Louis stands in the v of his legs, staring down at him, his dick straining in his pants. Harry shuffles ungracefully back on the bed, and shimmies out of his jeans. He pulls his cock out with no hesitation, immediately thumbing at the tip as he watches Louis right back.

Louis’ about to say something, just about to open his mouth and ask what to do when he feels the heat of Nick’s body plastered to his back. He doesn’t even hesitate.

Louis turns and yanks Nick’s head down, immediately sucking and biting at his lips, running his hands through Nick’s hair over and over again.

‘Nick,’ he whimpers when Nick shoves his hands down the back of Louis’ pants and grabs at his arse, pulling Louis closer.

Nick’s breathing harshly against his lips and Louis can’t really breathe at all. It’s been so long since he’s had this, since he was allowed to have this. It’s like muscle memory; his body knows exactly what it’s doing, what _to_ do, to make Nick gasp and moan. He sucks at the skin under Nick’s chin, smiling at the noise Nick makes.

Nick pushes him down onto the bed, falling just to the left of Harry, and straddles him. ‘You are never to do that to me again Louis, do you understand?’

He grabs at Louis’ chin and holds it steady, forcing him to meet Nick’s gaze. ‘Do you understand me? You’re never leaving me again.’

He feels Harry’s hand slide into his, squeezing his fingers gently.

‘I’m never leaving again,’

-

It’s Nick pushing into him so slowly, so carefully, like Louis’ fragile, like he wants to _remember_ it and Harry’s hands all over his body, all the time, never once stopping or giving up or moving away and Nick and Harry together and they know each other, Louis can tell they know each other’s bodies and part of him wants to run because it’s just mine mine mine for both of them, but more of him wants to stay and has to stay and just let himself be kissed, over and over again, with Nick’s dick in his arse and Harry’s cock in his mouth and in his hands and Nick’s fingers against his stomach and Harry’s teeth on his neck and they both belong to him now and if Louis didn’t know better he’d say that this was it for him, this was the end, but Louis did know better and surely he couldn’t be allowed this? But it was so much pleasure, all of it, everywhere all the time, and it was them together.

It was his Nick and his Harry and himself, all tangled together in sheets that felt cold on Louis’ skin.

-

When Louis wakes up in the morning, the light is streaming in through the hole in Nick’s curtain that he promised Louis years ago he would fix. Nick’s spooned up against his back and Harry’s curled towards him on his side. He’s not sure how it happened or if he might just be dreaming.

It takes him a while to untangle himself, slowly shifting their heavy limbs away from his body and watching with a slightly aching chest as they curl into each other, Nick’s fingers immediately wrapping into Harry’s curls.

Louis isn’t sure he belongs.

He remembers Nick’s shower though, the whiney noise the plumbing makes when you first turn it on and how it takes fucking for ever for the water to heat up.

He’s in there for about five minutes before Harry slips in behind him, his big warm body pressing Louis into the tiles.

‘Please don’t run away,’ Harry murmurs against his ear, trailing sleepy kisses down the side of his neck.

‘You’ve got me pinned Styles,’ Louis says dryly. ‘Where do you think I can go?’

‘Do you remember falling in love with me?’ Harry asks, moving his kisses down the back of Louis’ neck. The water splashes into Louis’ face so he shuts his eyes and leans his forehead against the tiles.

‘No.’

‘Louis.’

‘I remember.’

‘You didn’t fall out of love with Nick.’

Louis twists around and lets Harry crowd him further into the wall, his hands gripping onto Louis’s hips. His dick twitches against his thigh and he can’t help but rock up a little into the pressure.

‘I know that.’

‘You still ran away though?’

Louis smiles and meets Harry’s eyes. This beautiful, sad boy. ‘I didn’t know you’d stick around for the both of us.’

‘It was you I wanted first,’ Harry groaned, nuzzling his face into the side of Louis’ neck. ‘It’s you I want now. You and him, together, with me.’

Louis exhaled for what felt like the first time in months.

‘Don’t run away Lou.’

‘I won’t.’

-

And in the end, it’s messy and broken and probably incredibly unhealthy, but fuck, they wouldn’t have it any other way. Louis wouldn’t have it any other way. No way except this one, this one with his boys.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading- sorry it's such a mess. I'm on tumblr at thenleavetheband if you fancy saying hello.


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